


Leaving

by Ohgress



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Post Season 6, Road Trips, Self-Esteem Issues, extremely slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohgress/pseuds/Ohgress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone in Daryl's life just kept on leaving. It was time for him to do the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will mostly take place inside Daryl's head.

He wanted to stay. He really did. But he couldn’t. Carol was safe here in the Kingdom and that clown Ezekiel had more or less made Carol his “queen”. Fucking stupid shit if you asked him. All these power-horny dumbasses made him feel sick. And seeing Carol smile again, feeling better and knowing it wasn’t because of him made him feel even sicker. It was time to get the fuck out of here. Get back to Alexandria. Why, he didn’t really know. There wasn’t anything for him there anymore. But Rick was a mess and Negan’s threat was hella real and Judith, he needed to keep her safe. Lil’ asskicker, he felt a tiny warmth thinking of her. At least someone still needed him and Judith was too small to do anything stupid such a leaving. He was looking forward to see Tobin’s sorry face though. He couldn’t keep her either. Thank fucking God!

So he was preparing to leave the Kingdom now that his shoulder was mostly healed. They had offered him a horse, but the last time he sat on one hadn’t been a success story and he’d found a bike outside the fences that had been easy to fix. An old Sportster and if he was true to himself, it was his new love and he couldn’t wait to get on it and just forget everything. Forget Carol, forget everything that had happen, Denise, Dwight, Negan, every death he was responsible for. Just go back to Alexandria, make sure things were in order and if they didn’t seem to need him anymore, he was gonna head back home south again. The DC area was too fucking crowded anyway. He had managed to take of himself for over 40 years and honestly, life was easier now. He didn’t need nobody. Who knew, maybe he could check out the prison, see if it was habitable again. He’d liked that place. It’d been good times. He felt a tiny dagger in his heart, thinking back to that time, he tried so hard to not see Carol smiling at him in head. Nah, the prison was probably a bad idea. Too many memories. Good memories.

He hadn’t really understood what had happened when he saw Carol again, after the saviors had dumped his half-dead sorry ass outside the Kingdom. He’d been so happy, seeing her by his bed one day and he swore she had been happy too, but when he’d woken up a few days later and asked for her, she hadn’t come. She didn’t want to see him, they said. At first he thought she was just not feeling well, hell he sure as fuck didn’t. They’d said she’s been injured too and was healing. So he had let it go. They would see each other soon enough. At least she was safe. But when he was finally up and walking around and he met her in the schoolyard one afternoon, she hadn’t looked happy so see him at all. It had been so confusing that he hadn’t known what to do. She didn’t look like the Carol he had known at all. She had new types of clothes on and she looked at him like she didn’t want acknowledge she knew him. So eventually he had just nodded at her and kept on walking. After a couple of minutes he’d sat down on a bench under a tree, exhausted just by that short walk, frustrated at himself for being so weak, and when he had looked up and around, he’d seen Carol smiling and talking with some of the residents on the other side of the schoolyard.  So she wasn’t really ill, she just didn’t want to see him. The pain that hit him had blackened out the physical exhaustion that he felt. He forgot to breathe and the world was spinning. He had lost her. For real this time.


	2. Chapter 2

So he couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t stay. If Carol didn’t want him there, he would leave. He would let her be free of him. She obviously was doing so much better without him and their family. It hurt and angered him that she had chosen this path, but she seemed to know what she was doing. She always had. She was strong like that.

He was fastening a bag with the few possessions he had left on the sissy bar, checking everything over once again as he turned and looked over the main school building which was the heart of the Kingdom. There were kids outside the entrance playing, a group of girls were double dutching under the blue sky, and birds were chirping in the trees, it all seemed so completely normal. Just like things had felt in Alexandria at first, creepily normal, a world he knew he didn’t fit into. But there was a war going on outside the walls, a war that was affecting the Kingdom too. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to stay and fight it or leave. Time would tell. Right now he just had to get the hell out of here. The longing for solitude was itching under his skin. He couldn’t think straight in here, not with her around. There was that tiny dagger in his chest again.

He kick-started the bike and the engine roar probably woke up the rest of the population this September morning. The custom-made bike with short exhaust pipes wasn’t the most silent vehicle, it would surely attract walkers but on the other hand, he would outrun them. Besides, he’d always wanted a bike like this, never could afford it. Merle would have been jealous. Merle would’ve…

 _‘You’re doin’ the right thing, baby brother. Can’t have ungrateful bitches around like that…’_ But maybe Carol was right though, he had screwed up big time. Glenn was dead because of him and his fucking temper. Carol would be better off without him fucking everything up. _‘Mmhm, that’s what I kept tellin’ you brother, she was gonna leave you sooner or later. Don’t want your sorry ass.’_ Daryl felt his chest tighten but he pushed the pain down _. ‘Go be a true Dixon now Darlina. Dixons don’t need nobody.’_ Well, us Dixons are pretty damn good at leaving, ain’t we Merle? Merle just cracked a wicked smile at him in his head but then he thought of the last days they had spent together. He never would have thought he’d seen Merle as distraught as he was when he saw his scars. And then he had seen Carol speak to Merle an evening at the prison and Merle hadn’t really been Merle after that. He wondered what she had actually said. And Merle had sacrificed himself for them, going after the Governor. He’d never done anything like that before…

He rolled up to the gate, the guards saw him and he nodded at him. They nodded back and started opening the gate. He turned around and looked back one last time, not willing to admit he was looking after a certain silver-haired queen, but looked he did. He didn’t see her though. He sighed, turned on the gas throttle and sped out of the Kingdom.


	3. Chapter 3

Inside one of the old schoolrooms Carol heard a motorcycle engine roar to life. She knew who it belonged to. A part of her wanted to leave the desk and go to the big window and look out, to see him one last time, but another part held her back. It was for the best. She didn’t have anything to offer him anymore. She wasn’t sure if she’d had anything to offer for a good while. And now, with everything that she’d heard happen with her old family and Negan… How could she comfort him when all she felt herself was pain and guilt? These people in the Kingdom, they had never known the old Carol, she could be whoever she wanted. ‘ _But wasn’t that the same with Alexandria? And look how well that went…’_ a small voice inside her head said to her. Yes, but here no one from her old family was present, not until Daryl had showed up. Morgan had left the Kingdom after a couple of days, said he needed to get back to Rick and she’d been so relieved. That bastard buggered her to no end. ‘ _He was right though…’_ Yeah, yeah but she slept better after he left. Ezekiel was a wonderful personality and it had felt good to be helping people again, teaching children. This time she would do it right. It felt right. And then a half-dead Daryl had showed up and the world came crashing in again. She couldn’t deal with it, she just couldn’t. She had went to see him in the infirmary and he had smiled at her through his drug-induced haze and she had smiled back involuntary because he had looked so childlike and happy to see her, but then she had learned what happened and it was just too much. She couldn’t let the feelings get to her. It wasn’t possible.

She knew she was hurting him the next couple of weeks of his recovery. She could see the sadness in his eyes whenever he cast her a glance, and it was hard not to give in. But it was for the best. It just was. There was too much pain between them now. The damage was already done.

\---

Daryl felt himself relax on the rumbling bike. This was life. The crisp smell of fall and all the warm colors of dying leaves rushed past him, the morning sun on his back. These Virginian back roads were relatively clear of obstacles so he was going quite fast. It felt really good. The Sportster was down right awesome. As he came to the crossing where he was supposed to turn north to Alexandria he stopped and looked up the road. He should go there. He pictured himself turning up in front of the Alexandria gates, pictured all the worried looks of people as he entered the town, Rick, Carl, Michonne, Judith… but no Carol. And everyone looked sad and tired, like all hope was gone. He sighed and looked down on the silver metallic gas tank, it had a slight cerulean hew. It was real pretty. Like someone he used to know. The engine chugged on in idle, like it was saying “Come on, take me for a longer drive. You know you deserve it”.

He really should go home and help, like he always did. Like he always did… Fuck. What had he honestly helped accomplish lately? Nothing. Just more death. No, fuck this!! He suddenly felt insanely tired, like he could sleep for a week and still feel tired. He couldn’t go back, he needed to breathe, to heal, to not feel so fucking tired. He needed a vacation. He had never had one. He had never seen the ocean. He had never done anything for himself. He had followed Merle around and then he followed Rick around and fuck he was tired of it. He looked up and gazed down the southbound road. It stretched out through the forest for some hundreds yard and then it turned left round a small wooded hill. He wondered what the world looked like behind that curve. He could just do a slight detour, go back to Alexandria tomorrow. It was a beautiful day. He could maybe scout a town for a new bow or another weapon, hunt some game and just be. The world seemed uncommonly walker-free today and it would hella stupid not to take advantage of that. Yeah, just one more day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a filler chapter really, more to come.

He was driving fast down the US1. Sometimes swirling around abandoned cars and always with an eye on the walkers here and there. There were quite a lot of them and he wanted to get out of the suburbs as fast as he could. When he saw the exit to Quantico his interest piqued but he thought better of it. If the survivors around here had been looking for security and a safe place to stay, the Marine Corps Base must have been the first place to go. And he had seen the devastation of the CDC… So he drove on, passing several places where he could have found food and weapons but there was just too many walkers, too many threats. No, the safest place nowadays was the countryside and it was also where he felt most at home. So when he got down to Falmouth, he decided to avoid Fredericksburg altogether and took the 218 east. East was the ocean and east was where he was going.

It turned out to be a good choice. After just a few miles the landscape around him turned from suburban to rural and in White Oak he found a store that looked virtually untouched since the outbreak. There were two extremely decayed walkers inside which he took out easily with his hunting knife. They must have been the owners because one of them still had an old revolver attached to the hip. Sweet! Four bullets were left but it was better than nothing. The Kingdom had only given him a machete for security as he left so the gun was a welcoming sight. He picked what edible food he could find, mostly jerky and some granola bars, a couple of water bottles and in the back room he even discovered a half-full gas can. When he had refueled the Harley he continued down the dwindling country road, passing farm after farm, fields mixed with forest areas, enjoying every curve of the road, the stillness and fresh smells around him. Was this what vacation felt like?

In all his life before the world went to shit, he had never been outside Georgia, and now he had travelled through three states. He had wandered through the Blue Ridge Mountains with his friends, suffered the drought in Shenandoah National Park and he had seen the goddamn Washington Memorial in the distance through a bus window.  And now he was on his way to the Atlantic Ocean. Who would have thought? The memories of everything he had seen made him slightly dizzy. He wondered if Carol ever felt the same. He wasn’t sure how much she had travelled before but something told him she hadn’t seen much in her previous life either, because of that mean bastard of a husband. Just thinking of Ed made Daryl shudder. No, there had been good outcomes from this new harsh world too. Daryl had never felt as free as he felt now. He stretched out his legs before putting his feet back on the pedals and gave the throttle a real twist. The bike sped away and he felt damn good.

Going as fast as he was he almost missed the sign in the middle of a sweet curve that said Northern Virginia Gun Club. Hold up, that was something that needed checking out. He hit the brakes and turned the bike around and drove down a small dirt road into the forest. After a couple of hundred yards there was an opening in the forest and a small gun range lay before him with a couple of club houses and not a soul, living or dead was in sight. He did see some rotten corpses laying around though but thinking of whatever had gone down here was worthless. He just wanted to find some weapons and ammo.

He parked the bike outside one of the more fortified barracks with steel bars on the windows. But when looked closer at the door he saw it was slightly open. Shit, bad sign. Readying himself with the knife he flipped the door fully open and waited. No sound. He peaked in and was hit by the overpowering smell of death and decay. Something was in there alright. His back-pocket pug came to good use as he stepped in and looked around. It was a large room with a big table and chairs and further in there was a smaller room. The smell got worse as he got closer to the door to said room, and yep, inside was a severely mummified body, half-sitting against the wall with a bullet hole in its head. But no guns, the walls were stripped clean. Damn. Someone had already been here. Well, it figured. But wait a minute, there was something laying on top of a high shelf, something that looked awfully familiar. He reached up and grabbed the tip of the black curve of wood. A bow! Not a crossbow but a compound. He cracked a smile as he held it gently in his hands, felt the weight and balance of it. Sweet! Maybe there someone up there watching over him. And when he jumped up to see if there was more on that shelf he spotted a quiver further in on the shelf. He grabbed a chair, stepped up and nicked it.

Strapping the bow on his bike made him feel oddly complete, like all the missing pieces in his life slowly was being put together again. This could be the end on this little road trip, he could go back to Alexandria now with the satisfaction of having gained what he wanted, but there was that ocean thing in the back of his mind. He had only been gone a day, and who takes a one-day vacation? No one, that’s for sure. So went he got back to the 218 again, he continued driving east.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter I've ever written. Sorry for any typos but I can't look at this anymore.

Eventually, the 218 got him to a place called Owens and a lot more walkers started to show up. He followed the road going over the state highway where he could see more walkers to the east from the bridge. Not going that way, and besides, the Potomac seemed to turn south here, so south was his new direction. After a couple of miles and crossroad junctions, still in the countryside, he got to the Virginia State Route 3. It turned east again and there were very few walkers in sight, so east again it was. He only got a mile or so through the forest before he saw a left turn sign that said _George Washington Birthplace National Monument._ So that guy was born here, huh? He let off the gas and rolled the bike to a stop. There was a small straight road going into the forest. Must end up at the Potomac, he thought. Why not? I’m fucking sightseeing.

He passed a couple of farms on the way through the thick woods before the landscape opened up again in pastures and fields and ahead he saw a goddamn obelisk. Like the big one in Washington, but this was way smaller. But he also saw that is was encapsulated by a man-made wooden fence, a high fence and in the same moment he noticed that the fields on both sides of the road had been harvested. This place was occupied. He slowed down and tried to see any activity but the only thing he could see was a gate and a watchtower next to the obelisk and the end of rifle sticking out of it. Wrong move, taking this side trip, but something about the place had him curious. Someone had harvested the fields, that didn’t speak gang of criminals to him. As he got closer he saw a man stand up in the watch tower. He shut off the engine and glided on idle the last meters.

“Stay right there, visitor. State your name and business,” the man in the watchtower spoke. He had long blonde dreads and flannel cheered shirt, he looked like the scarecrow in Oz.

“Daryl, no business. Just looking around. I can leave,” he answered and began to turn the bike around.

“No stop, you don’t have to!” the man yelled. “We haven’t seen anyone new for several weeks. I’m Aaron. Where’d you come from?”

“DC area,” Daryl said reluctantly. This Aaron guy was suspiciously cheerful. Why were guys named Aaron so overtly friendly?

“Yeah, me too. Originally. I used to work summers here while I was getting my agriculture degree at UMCP. Figured it would be a good place to hole up for a while, and yeah, I was right. We’re a bit crowded now, but the farm is doing great,” Aaron babbled. “You need anything?”

Daryl eyed him warily. Aaron was smiling and looked like he was no older than 25. He seemed very harmless.

“I could use some gas,” Daryl admitted slowly.

“We’re kinda low on that, but I guess you don’t need much for that,” Aaron said and pointed at the bike’s gas tank.

“Nah, maybe three quarter of a gallon.”

“I think we could arrange that. You have something to trade?”

Daryl shook his head, before eyeing him again. “Not really, but I’ve got information.”

“Well, I’d love me some gossip. Come on in.”

“Ya just gonna let me in like that?” Daryl was surprised. This guy was just too trusting, Daryl thought. But on the other hand, he had a good feeling about this place.

“There’s a reason I work the gate a lot. The other’s say I have a good gut feeling when it comes to reading people, and my gut says you’re pretty harmless despite all that mean biker thing you got going on. No offense, but yeah.” Aaron did a sweeping gesture around Daryl’s exterior persona.

Daryl cracked a half smile. His gut told him that the guy in dreads was right. He probably was a good judge of character.

So Daryl brought his bike in through the gates and told Aaron about Alexandria and especially the Saviors while walking into the community. Aaron said that thank God, they’d only had a few trouble makers come by and that the Saviors definitely sounded like some real criminals. He also told Daryl how he and some college friends of him had come down the river. First at a raft they’d built and then on a sailing boat they’d snitched in a DC dock. They had several boats now and were mostly traveling on the river because it was so much safer. Daryl felt that these were really smart people, even though kinda hippie-like but hey, Ezekiel had dreads too and a tiger so…

The Birthplace really did have a big farm going on. He saw goats, pigs and cows, chickens and even some bison in enclosed pastures. Aaron told him about the ecological reservation work the national monument had done before the outbreak and this was the reason to why they had so many landrace breeds, which was a good thing since they were more resistant than modern cattle. Daryl told him about the Hilltop Community which he thought resembled this one, and Aaron got really interested.

“Do they have any bulls?”

“I think so, they have milking cows.”

“That’s awesome, because we’re getting a bit worried about inbreeding. Where they at? We could trade cattle.”

Daryl told him and as they got up to some of the main buildings, other young people working in the gardens looked up and watched Daryl with curiosity. Aaron spoke up.

“Hey everyone, this is Daryl. He just stopped by. He told me a lot of good stuff, and bad stuff but I’ll fill you in later. Hey Steve, could you get a can of gas? It’s for his bike,” Aaron shouted to a tall guy outside a building which looked like some kind garage. Steve nodded and went inside the garage.

“You hungry?” Aaron asked him. What a stupid question for such a smart guy, Daryl thought.

“I could eat.”

“Come on then.”

And Daryl was served the most delicious sandwich he had maybe all his life, with cottage cheese and ham on fresh wheat bread. He also got a glass of milk that was pasteurized. Aaron kept talking while they sat in the old 18th century kitchen of the memorial house.

“That’s what so awesome with this place. It’s like it was made for the Zombie apocalypse, dude. Except it wasn’t, this was just how people lived before.”

Daryl only listened with half an ear while Aaron kept on babbling how the apocalypse actually was a good thing for the environment. He was too busy savoring the sandwich, but he had to admit, he had never met such an enthusiastic guy as Aaron after the world gone to shit. It was like he was almost grateful for what had happen.

After the snack they walked out of the house again and Aaron handed him a small metal gas tank and continued to talk while walking him back to his bike.

“You’re welcome to stay overnight, if you want”, Aaron offered.

“Nah, s’alright. I’m heading for the bay.”

“Someplace you gotta be?”

“Not really, but you don’t happen to have some directions for me? I wanna see the ocean.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows at that but didn’t comment on Daryl’s wish.

“Head down to Windmill Point. It’s pretty much deserted. All the rich folks got evacuated to DC early on. Didn’t do them no good. Just follow SR-3 down to White Stone and then take the 695 east and you’ll get there. But you might need to hurry if you want to get there before dark.”

“Aight. Thanks for the gas, and the meal.”

“No problem, dude. Thanks for the information. It was good to know. Feel free to come by anytime.”

“Alright. … I have a friend named Aaron back home. I tell ’im you said hi.” Daryl had no idea why he said that, but it was just a funny thing he met another friendly Aaron.

“I’m not the only Aaron left? Cool! Cool, cool, cool! You do that. Safe travels, man.” And Aaron opened the gate while Daryl refueled and started the bike. He excitedly waved him off as Daryl rolled out of the compound. He shook his head and snickered. Such a strange guy.

Back on the SR 3 he realized this wasn’t really a vacation anymore, it was a scouting mission, and a good one too. He didn’t feel bad about being away anymore. This would benefit everyone. Daryl felt silly for thinking it, but maybe there was hope for mankind. The Saviors’ way was the wrong way and he felt more and more sure that their psychotic way of life would fail in the end. How the fuck could a psychopath like Negan had gotten so far when a bunch of farming students had built something far better? It was all about coincidences. It was a coincidence he and Merle had stumbled upon the quarry camp. It was a coincidence Rick had met Glenn in Atlanta. Some of the deaths of his friends was pure coincidences. It could have been him. It could have been Carol. Some were not coincidences. Some still lingered heavy on his conscience. Sophia, Denise, Glenn…

But there was hope now. The people at the Birthplace had started over, for real. They weren’t just trying to survive, they were living. He wondered how many other places like this there was out there. A happy feeling grew in his chest. He had to tell Carol and Rick about this.

Carol… They were supposed to start over too. It never happen. They never did start over in Alexandria. Daryl didn't really know why. They had drifted apart instead, with him going on runs with Aaron and Carol baking cookies or whatever the hell she was doing. Carol had acted so strange, like she didn't dare to be herself, but maybe that had been the smart moves. No one of the Alexandrians except Aaron and Eric liked him anyway. Carol had blended in, played the part. He could never do that. And now in the Kingdom she was playing another part. When they had been in Atlanta looking for Beth, she had said the different versions of herself just kept burning away. How could he get back the original version of Carol? Who was the original version of Carol? Maybe she was long gong and wouldn't ever come back. The thought of that hurt Daryl's inside something fierce. He had lost her. She had finally left and he didn't know how to get her back.

He thought back to last conversation they’d had at the Kingdom before he left. He wanted to try with her one more time, so he had sought her up in her room. She was sitting in the window sill looking out over the school yard, pensive. When she noticed him standing in the door way, she gave him a sad look. Daryl had dug deep for courage to face her.

Finally he asked her, “What happened in Alexandria? With you?” Carol gave him a sharp look. She knew why he was asking.

“A lot of things happened. You know that,” she answered icily but Daryl wasn’t gonna give up this easily.

“We never got to start over”, he said and walked slowly into the room.

“It was too late.” Carol was looking out the window again. She looked so frail and tired.

“I don't think so. I'm still tryin’”, Daryl said honestly.

“And look how far it got you...” Carol snorted, her voice dripping with bitter irony.

Okay, that was just down right mean. He knew well enough what she was aiming at. Dammit, Carol. He was done being gentle with her. “What the fuck do ya really want? Huh, Carol?” He snarled.

“I just want to be left alone!! I just want to not feel”, she yelled at him and her whole body was shivering. Daryl took a step back. This was the first argument they’d had in a long time. It shook him more than he thought it would.

“You were the one tellin’ me I needed to feel”, he said more calmly.

“Yeah, well, I was delirious from dehydration. Feelings are shit.” Carol snickered.

“You know that ain’t true.”

“Daryl, please, just go. I can't do this now. I need to rest.” Carol looked at him with those big blue eyes of hers and how could he keep pushing her? There was so much sadness in her. He nodded and turned to walk out of the room. But when he got to the doorway he turned to her again. There was one thing he needed to know.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked carefully.

“Who?”

“Tobin.”

“Tobin? No Daryl, he didn't.” Carol gave him a small smile and he soaked it in like a dying man in the desert. “I just couldn't stay.”

“Did you love him?” He said looking down on his feet. He had to know, he just had to.

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I was trying.”

So she had tried with Tobin, but not him. Well, of course not, if she was gonna play her housewife role, she couldn't be with the disgusting redneck, could she? Damn no. He got that part. It was clever, but it hurt. It hurt more than he had let on. He had been an outcast again, rejected by his best friend even and he had a hard time forgiving her for that. But seeing how miserable she was now, made him forget his broken heart. He just wanted the old Carol back, he wanted her to be happy and if she was in the Kingdom, if that place made her feel better, so be it. But he was going to tell her about what he had seen on this journey, whether she’d listen or not. He was going to give her hope of a better future. A future where no one had to kill anyone anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

He kept pondering about Carol and all that had happened as he pushed on towards the coast. They had been so close to something at the prison, hadn’t they? Sure they had, he was almost certain of it. There must’ve been some truth behind all that flirting she was doing and ridiculous pet names she kept teasing him with. She must’ve meant at least some of it? Daryl could picture Carol’s mischievous smile and no, there had been something there. He knew it. If only he had dared to do something about it. He thought, if Rick hadn’t exiled Carol and the Governor hadn’t come back, it would’ve been a matter of only weeks before he would’ve made his move. He was already picturing different scenarios how he would go about it in his head before the time people got sick and Carol disappeared. Where they would be (down by the stream) and what would happen (she would kiss him and he’d pick her up in his arms and lay her down in the grass) and how life would alter after that (no more lonely nights and oh, such sweet things). The biggest problem was the lack of privacy, and all them new folks needing stuff. If he recalled back, he could count on his one hand how many alone moments Carol and him had in a week. There was never enough time, and there still wasn’t.

He suddenly wished he wasn’t alone on his bike. He wished Carol was with him, wished he could feel her thighs around his waist and her soft chest against his back. He wished he could show her all the new places he’d seen so far this day. This county was beautiful and still rather undestroyed by human hands. Sometimes he passed old overgrown vineyards, thinking he should stop for some ripe grapes but the day neared late afternoon and he wanted to spend the night by sea. But the thought of spending the night alone wasn’t that thrilling. What if he had met Carol earlier in life? Would they have become friends? Would he have taken her to the sea then? No, because there was husband Ed, and there was meth-addict Merle and they had lived in two separate worlds. He could never had taken her to the sea in a previous life, but he could now. If only she wanted to, but she didn’t.

Daryl reached up and wiped a stray tear from his cheek. She didn’t want him anymore and Daryl didn’t know how to handle those feelings so he did what he did best, pushed them down and drove on.

***

After half an hour he passed a small town called Kilmarnock. It had several supermarkets that looked worth checking out and he memorized their location for the trip home. The bay wasn’t far now, he could almost smell the salt in the air. A couple of minutes after Kilmarnock he got to White Stone that Aaron had talked about. He turned onto the 695 or Windmill Point Road and continued to drive as far as he could. He definitely smelled the sea now and after a while he saw the first beach houses. They were huge and insanely luxurious. Some of them had boarded up windows like the inhabitants had prepared for a hurricane and he wondered if maybe there were people left in there. He didn’t see anyone so maybe they had just tried to protect their houses against looters after the evacuation. Like folks nowadays didn’t have crowbars. Pffft! Rich dumbasses.

The road turned south and suddenly ended at the Windmill Point Marina, and there it was, the ocean, blue and vast. He could vaguely make out the other side of the Rappahannock river mouth straight ahead but a little to the left it was only water as far as he could see. He turned off the engine and drew a deep breath. The salt and the sand tickled his nose a bit but it was the freshest air he’d smelled a long time. To his right were a couple of brick row houses that looked battered by the coastal weather and no one caring for them a long while. To his left was the club house of marina and behind it a small harbor with luxury boats, some half sunken, some wiped up on land by a recent storm. There were no walkers around. Absolutely no one and it felt almost eerie. But the sand on the streets everywhere told him there had been storms recently and he guessed all remaining geeks had washed away.

He looked at the ocean again. The waves came crashing in and the sound of it was soothing. Here, it felt like life had kept going. The ocean didn’t care about the loss of human, it probably thrived now. There were seagulls yelling in the air, doing dives into the water, catching small fish. Wading birds running around on their funny looking little legs hunting bugs. Yeah, he could stay here for a while.

The sun was going down and painted the landscape in a warm glow. He needed to find someplace to stay. Ocean view was preferable, and after circling around the area for a while he settled on a house east of the marina with the beach just out in front. This house was huge too and there was even a pool which Daryl found silly considering the ocean. The windows weren’t boarded up on this house so it was easy to break a small window next to door. The door handle was too far away though so he crawled in through the narrow space, careful not to cut himself. Once inside he was standing in a big, white painted hallway with old mirrors and very expensive looking furniture. There was a miniature sailboat in the ceiling. Everything was in off-white colors and very old-fashioned looking. He clanked a wooden table with his knife and listened for shuffling, growling sounds. Nothing. Moving silently room for room he cleared the empty house which took almost 15 minutes because of its size. He counted to six bedrooms. All deserted.

There were still some food in the kitchen. Not much that wasn’t covered in mold but he found some bean cans, a can of peaches, some stale crackers and a couple of cokes. And coffee, he found real coffee. Hell yes! That needed to come with him for sure. He sauntered into the living room with the food. Around an antique coffee table there were big comfy white couches that he plunged into. He instantly left a smudge of dirt on it. Fuck it. Why the fuck did people have white furniture anyway? So stupid. Brown leather sofas, that was more his style.

Under the huge flat screen TV on the wall in front of him was a fancy media cabinet with an old record player on top of it and roes of vinyl records on the shelves below. An album cover was haphazardly thrown on the floor in front of the cabinet. The owners must have left the house in a haste. Daryl rose from the couch and picked it up, it looked familiar. He turned it around to see the front cover. Huh, Billy Idol’s Whiplash Smile. It wasn’t what he had expected in this wealthy home but on the other hand, Merle had always said that Billy Idol was a faggot and a rich man’s guilty pleasure. Daryl had always thought White Wedding was a kick-ass song but he never told Merle that. He liked this album too. Daryl’s punk-wannabe cousin Dave with dyed blonde hair had owned it and he remembered they had listened to it a time or two in the trailer home when they were kids. He never told Merle about that either. There were a lot of things he never told Merle, or anybody. The record belonging to the cover was still in the player. Too bad there wasn’t any electricity. He skimmed through the track-list. Ha! The first song on the record was called Worlds Forgotten Boy, how fucking fitting.

Daryl decided to check the cellar of the house to see if there was any back-up generators or something. If he could maybe make coffee this would be a vacation. To his luck he found a couple of Duracell backup generators. Being a beach house and all, they were probably used to power cuts during storms. That wasn’t the only thing he found in the cellar, they had a whole winery down there, water bottles, fishing equipment, sunbeds, this and that for beach life, and a fucking dinghy with oars and all. Why the fuck was the rest of his crew hold up in Alexandria when they could live here? There wouldn’t be any walkers coming from the sea, only need three fences, or one really since it was a peninsula. They could both fish and hunt game, plant stuff and live the sweet life, away from Negan’s tyranny. Carol could sunbath on the beach on nice days and he could watch her from the upper porch. He smiled at the picture in his head, even though he knew it probably never was going to happen. But still, he needed to have a serious conversation with Rick when he got back. When he got back… He shook his head and looked around some more.

There was a door on the opposite side of the stairs down. He opened it with some difficult and found himself staring out over the beach and the rolling waves. Sand had blown up against the house when no one had been around for so long. But it was getting dark so he closed the door, grabbed a bottle of wine and the portable generator he’d placed on the stairs and headed back up. He had everything he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I bored you with this. Feels coming in the next chapter. In vino veritas. And Billy Idol.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologizes for this beforehand. I'm not satisfied with it but since I've already written the end of this story, I just want to move on.

Before settling down in the spacious living room, he boarded up the broken window with a bunch of chairs. Should a walker against all odds be trying to get in, he’d have to be more or less dead not to hear his impromptu jenga fall down. For good measure he added a fancy glass vase to the furniture puzzle.

He lit some candles in the living room that were already there and corked up the wine bottle. He sniffed the wine and it smelled alright. The label said _Elk Cove 2009 Roosevelt Pinot Noir_ but that didn’t mean shit to him. He took a gulp, swirled it around in his mouth a bit and swallowed. Nah, tasted like every other red wine he’d had, not bad though. Good enough for beans and peaches. He took a few gulps more before planting the bottle on the coffee table.

With the open can of beans in one hand and a fork in the other, he sauntered around in living room, scanning the bookshelves for anything interesting while shuffling in the beans. He didn’t find anything. There were lots of art books and books on home decoration and sailing and some Floras. Bet Carol would like those, he thought. He opened a cabinet in a corner and bingo! Hello sunshine! Here comes the whiskey. Well, he certainly wasn’t gonna go thirsty tonight. There was a lot of fancy Scottish malts but he picked a bottle of Tullamore Dew. He liked that one. It was down to earth and plain, like him. He unscrewed it, nodded to no one and took a drink. Sláinte! He would drink for Merle tonight, for all the family he had lost before and after the end of the world, for new beginnings and for old endings.

After finishing the beans he went to the business of plugging in the stereo system to the power pack. Hopefully it had enough juice to last at least for a while. He fiddled with the contacts, trying to figure out which ones belonged to the stereo and after some swearing and grunting he finally saw some lights flicker on the panels. He blew off the layer of dust that had collected on the vinyl record and pressed play. The pickup hitched and moved over to the edge of the record, slowly went down and met the vinyl with a tiny scratch. The dusty old familiar sound of a record playing streamed out of the speakers. Damn, it works, he marveled. He hadn’t been playing any records for at least a decade.

He located himself in the coach again, digging into the peaches this time as the first notes of rock music reached his ears. Nice. He swallowed down the juicy sweet peaches with some more red wine and felt this was good enough evening. He didn’t want to think about what he may look like. Red wine, peaches, candles and Billy Idol… Nope. Besides, no one would ever know. He felt alright at the moment. Billy started singing.

 _My road is long, it lingers on._  
_You stare at me and I'm holding on._  
_My eyes are dim, my breath is weak_  
_and tears stain my cheeks._

The lyrics were awfully fitting for his day. He took a drink from the whiskey bottle and chewed the last peach down.

 _Up there so high where the air is so thin,_  
_you look for signs. Am I giving in?_  
_All for me you bring crashing down,_  
_and still you condemn me._  
_Oh no no shame. All my life I'll not betray._  
_I'll not shed one tear for all my life_  
_forever more, for ever more._

 He tried not to listen so carefully but the words crept into his mind. He wasn’t ashamed of anything he’d done so far and he had never cried for the life he’d left behind. That was done with.

 _Sound towers will crumble down,_  
_I see everything is broken down._  
_His heart is breaking and recorded in sound._  
_We need a miracle joy, we need a miracle boy,_  
_A rock and roll toy, a rock and roll joy,_  
_A rock and roll boy!_

The chorus made him chuckle. It was like Billy Idol had written a song about the apocalypse 25 years too early.

 _Now I know what's up for game._  
_What's up for grabs, what's down again._  
_See all for me is crashing down,_  
_the end of everything, every decent human being._

Yep, he definitely did.

 _The road is long and it lingers on._  
_But my eyes are dim, my breath is weak_  
_and tears stain my filthy cheeks._

 _Sound towers will crumble down,_  
_I see everything is broken down._  
_Well my heart is breaking and recorded in sound._  
_I need a miracle joy, I need a miracle now,_  
_that rock and roll boy!_

 _Yeah! Yeah! Yeah, I'm hangin' on a miracle tree,_  
_Yeah, hangin' like a noose for you and me._  
_Yeah! Said yeah! Right now!_

Daryl felt his mood change throughout the end of the song. There was too many things in those lyrics that reminded him of his own life at the moment. Yeah, he could really need a miracle. A miracle that would end Negan, end all the fucking pain. He’d had that noose around his neck already, and all that he’d thought of was Carol and Judith. He had been hanging on a thin thread for them, and afterwards she hadn’t even cared. He felt the anger and hurt seeping over the rim of his heart again. He had been the miracle boy for over a year, feeding them and keeping them safe and it had all been for nothing. Daryl drank some more whiskey and not even the happy gospel tunes of the next song cheered him up.

 _Have I told you_  
_Lately that I love you_  
_If I din't, darlin',_  
_You see, I'm so sorry_  
_Didn't I reach out_  
_And hold you_  
_In these lovin' arms_  
_Well, if I didn't, oh baby._  
_Well, I'm so sorry_

Quite the opposite. The lyrics hit him like a stomach punch. God, they made him miss Carol.

 _When I realized that you need love too,_  
_gonna spend my life makin' love to you._  
_Got to be a lover._  
_Have mercy._  
_Forgot to be a lover. Have mercy!_  
_Forgot to be a lover._  
_Make it on through to you somehow. Have mercy, baby!_

_Well, did I ask you?_

_Yes, would you come and share,_  
_Oh, share,_  
_Oh, the burden and the task_  
_That's at love's command_  
_Didn't I say_  
_All those lovin' special things_  
_That you long to hear_  
_To show how much I care_

So he just sat there, with the whiskey bottle in his left hand, resting on his knee, staring in front of him, listening to the song as Billy Idol continued to list all the goddamn things he’d never done and never said to _her_. Daryl had never been religious but right now he could swear there was a devil in the corner of room laughing at him. ‘Yeah, you laugh. I know I’m shit. I know I fucked up.’

_Well, well I worked all day_

_Hard as I can,_

_Worked all night,_

_It didn't make me a man, babe._

Fuckin' Billy was right. Hard work didn’t matter. He could bring home fifteen deer and he’d still be a boy. Carol had said in Atlanta he was a man now, but nah, he fucking wasn’t. If he’d been a man, he would have told her what he really wanted, what he really felt about her but he didn’t do anything of that. Just some stupid lines that she misunderstood anyway. Me and my stupid mouth, he thought.

God, he missed Carol. He missed her so fucking much. He missed their first winter together. It had been horrible but at the same time it had been the first time in his life where he could even recall feeling a pinch of happiness. And then the pinch grew into a dollop around the time they found the prison, and after that the feeling just grew bigger and bigger until it was a big sweet lump consuming him night and day and he didn’t recognize himself anymore. He was someone new, someone Merle never got to see which sadden him, but Carol saw him, and Rick and all the others and it felt so fucking good. But the best feeling was the feeling that Carol’s smiling eyes gave him, and the way everyone just seem to assume it was him and her.

He had taken all that for granted, and if there was a higher power he’d been punished for it. Carol hadn’t been looking at him with those smiling eyes in a long time. After Terminus there was something dying in them, a dark void that scared the shit out of him. So he didn’t push, he waited, but he waited too long and someone else took over. It all just went to shit and he had never felt so hurt. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be happy. Maybe his fate was to be miserable and hated. Maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to love someone because he never saw love when he grew up. All he saw was abuse and loneliness. What the fuck did he know about loving a woman? Nothing. No wonder she had reached out to that doofus Tobin. He could probably say more than two sentences at one time. He could probably comfort her in ways he didn’t know how to. But Tobin couldn’t either, could he? Because she left him too, and Carol said she didn’t love him. Maybe Denise had been right. Was it really too late? Denise had told him it wasn’t before she died.

 _Well, when I realized that you need love too_  
_I'm gonna spend my life,_  
_gotta spend my life makin' love to you._

The chorus was echoing in his mind long after the song had ended and the next began. _Baby, I’m so sorry._ He was sorry, so very sorry for not knowing how to be a lover. _Have mercy._


	8. Chapter 8

There was so much running and never reaching, and baseball bats missing the ball, and Carol laughing at him with the tiger on a leash while Tobin was standing behind her with a smug smile and he changed into Ezekiel and then Rick and everyone was laughing, and Denise said he needed to snap out of it, he wasn’t laughable, that was his past telling him so and just as he began to stare at all the laughing people in their eyes, straighten himself up to tell them they could go to hell, he woke up. And he felt like shit.

Sometimes during the night he had passed out on the couch after almost emptying the bottle of whiskey, feeling sorry for himself. The battery had died a couple of songs into the b-side and then if he recalled it right, he’d just been thinking about Carol, staring into the candles like a total loser and gulping down whiskey.

The strange dream haunted him, and suddenly the truth smacked him in the face. He had failed her. It wasn't only Carol who had mistreated their friendship. He was guilty too. He'd been so wrapped up in everything that was happening with the herd, the Wolves and the Saviors and feeling sorry for himself for not fitting in to that gated middle-class community, he had forgotten to see his best friend. To really see her, like he had before. He had missed the downward spiral she'd been in. Well, maybe not missed, he noticed alright but he never asked her if she was alright, never gave her any tokens of gratitude like he did in the prison. He had always brought something back to her after runs then, something he knew she would like. In Alexandria there was so many lists, so many needs from the others, he forgot about Carol's. He forgot to be a lover… Ah hell… that was so embarrassing, but it was true. ‘Thanks Billy, for rubbing that in’.

He threw the blanket he somehow had found in his drunken haze over his head and sighed. What a goddamn mess he was. What a coward he was. Denise had been so right. Who knew when he’d get a bullet in his head? Could he honestly die without telling Carol how he felt? Fuck no. He’d already been close to it several times and still he hadn’t told her. What the fuck was his problem?

Oh, he knew what it was. Because as soon as she looked at him with those gorgeous blue doe eyes, fluttering her lashes, he’d choke up and afraid that what was gonna come out of his mouth would be nothing more the incoherent blubber, he would rather just shut up. Play it safe. No more. No fucking more, he thought triumphantly to himself, threw the blanket away and sat up hastily. Wrong move, his head pounded and rang like a church bell. Okay, coffee first. Second, new improved living.

Stumbling down to the basement, he picked up another battery, heaved himself up the stairs, shuffled into the kitchen, plugged the coffee machine to the battery, opened a water bottle and began making coffee. The sound and smell the machine was producing was heaven to his ears and nose. Yeah, he was gonna survive this too. He looked out the big windows to see the horizon was still there, the sea calm and blue skies. It was probably already after noon so he decided he was gonna stay another day and go back early tomorrow.

He poured himself a cup of the dark liquid and walked out onto the upper porch facing the bay. The fresh air did wonders to his hangover and he slumped down into a patio chair. It was so quiet here, only the soothing sounds of waves and shrieking of water birds. It was different sounds than he was use to in the forest, but he liked them. He leaned back and sipped on his coffee. He thought back on his day yesterday. So much had happened. From a morning of sorrow to a hopeful afternoon to a self-loathing night, and he wanted to talk to Carol about it. God, he wanted to talk to her again. He wanted to tell all his family what he had seen. His crew was so shattered now, maybe they could build a new community here, like they had at the prison? He didn’t like that his thought often went back to that time. It was over, but it was hard not to miss it. And if they could have something that good again, he swore he was gonna do everything in his power to protect it and not give up until Negan or any other lunatic was dead and buried in the ground. Everything could be destroyed in such a short matter of time nowadays. One look away, one missed signal and bam! So, carpe fucking diem. What to do with Carol?

Carol hadn’t even been gone two weeks until she emerged again in that forest outside Terminus. But during that time, he had made his mind up then, he was ready. If he found Carol again he would tell her, but then she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t entirely there anymore and he’d been confused. She had always been the strong one and the pushing force between them back before the prison fell. Always pushing close to where she wanted him, and he had been pulling away because he was scared. And then the roles had switched but he hadn’t been strong enough to push yet. Not after losing Beth and the feeling of inadequacy in Alexandria. He realized as he drank his coffee, he had to be the strong one now, for her.

But how? He hadn’t succeeded before, just made a fool of himself every time he tried to tell her what he really felt. He could write a note. Just a few lines to help him get through it. Yes, actually, that could help. He could write down what to say and then memorize it. He went into the kitchen again, scrambled through some drawers and found some paper and a pencil. Sitting by the kitchen table he began scribbling.

 _Dear Carol…_ What the fuck? No! He wasn’t writing a goddamn letter, ‘it’s supposed to be a speech, dumbass’. He scratched it and started over.

_Carol, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you but so many things came between us. And I didn’t know how to help you. I know you’re in pain and I want to help you. If you just could tell me how… I think we’re better together than apart. I’m not saying it can be like before, but it can be something new. I still want to start over. I’m right here and I’m not leaving you again. I love you._

His hand was trembling as he wrote those last three words. It was the first time he ever allowed that confession to truly leave the back of his head. He stared at the words. Three simple words he had never written or spoken before, and now he had. It was out there. He, Daryl Dixon _loved_ Carol Peletier. Of course, he’d known that for a long time, ever since the farm when he realized he wanted to stay, for her. That had never happened to him before, wanting to stay in one place for someone other than Merle. So he guessed his subconscious had concluded even then he was officially whipped, but it took a while for him before he understood that he actually liked it. He snickered at the thought. Yeah, Carol could do whatever she wanted with him now. Nothing could be worse than what had already had happened. As long as she didn’t throw him out…. But dammit, he was gonna make it impossible for her to do so. He was going to show her what life could be, with him and truly with him.

He folded the piece of paper and put it in his shirt pocket. He drank some water, poured another cup of coffee and began making plans for his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will be back with Carol in the next chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I only know about Ezekiel from other fics I've read. I'm not a comic reader so if he's out of character, that's why.  
> He seems nice though. Can't wait to meet him and Shiva.
> 
> Short chapter, more to come.

Ezekiel was disappointed. He’d been watching Carol and Daryl dance around each other for weeks in the Kingdom and he honestly thought that Daryl would snap and corner Carol one day, but instead he had left. Daryl was more heartbroken that he’d let on apparently. Ezekiel had met a lot of strange people throughout the years and Daryl was definitely one of them. Now he saw Carol sitting under the tree with the bench, looking pensive and so very alone. He steered himself and Shiva towards her. Carol tensed up when she saw them coming. Ezekiel wasn’t sure if it was because of him or the tiger, maybe both, although she was well acquainted with both of them now. Carol had been a godsend gift to his kingdom and Ezekiel always valued her opinion on important matters. There had been a time when he thought that maybe there could be something more than business between them, but then Daryl had showed up, barely alive, and he had seen Carol’s reaction. So no, he wouldn’t pursue her. She belonged to someone else, but neither involved parties seemed to be fully aware of that.

“Good evening, my lady”, he greeted her with a bow. Carol gave him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “How are we doing this wonderful fall evening?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Ezekiel studied her. She wasn’t fine. That was as clear as the September day.

“May we sit with you?”

“Of course.” Ezekiel sat down next to her and Shiva laid down on the ground and started licking her paws. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the setting sun of their faces. It was a warm and calm night. Eventually Ezekiel couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“You sure you’re fine?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” Carol answered with feigned surprise. She was holding on hard to her mask tonight, Ezekiel noted. As an old amateur thespian he knew those masks well and the only thing breaking them was the truth.

“Carol”, he said sternly. “I can see something is bothering you. Quit the act, talk to me. I’m your friend here.” Carol stared into space. Ezekiel decided to push some more.

“I know you miss him. It’s okay to do so.” She flinched hearing those words and looked down in her lap, her eyes watering. After a moment, she started talking quietly.

“He gave me a flower once. A flower in a beer bottle, when the world’s gone to hell. Who even does that?” Carol shook her head and chuckled through her tears. “He picked it while looking for Sophia. My Sophia. Said it was blooming for her. It was the sweetest thing someone had ever done for me. He did so many nice things for me.”

“Sounds to me he cared about you a lot.”

“Yes, and I cared about him. He was so lost but he found home with us.”

“I think he found more than that, Carol. I saw how he looked at you, like you’re the ocean and he wants to drown in it. That man loves you.” Carol looked up at him, tears spilling over now. She wiped them away angrily.

“Yeah, and I broke his heart…” Carol looked away again, trying to contain herself.

“Hearts can be mended,” Ezekiel said calmly. Carol whipped her face towards him again.

“Can they? Can they really?” She questioned and then sighed. “It’s not like I’m gonna see him again anyway so...”

“Yes, Carol, they can, and I have a strong feeling he’ll be back.”

“How do you know?” There was hope in Carol’s voice now.

“Oh, I’ve seen the ways of a man’s bleeding heart before. He’s not done with you yet, beautiful.” That managed a small sincere smile out of her again. It pleased him.

“Oh, stop it, Ezekiel. You know I’m old and worn out.”

“Aren’t we all? Love makes you younger though.”

Carol nodded. “I felt young, when we were at the prison.”

“Because you felt loved,” Ezekiel concluded.

“Maybe, but I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh that’s where you are wrong, my dear,” he said and reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I just can’t forget what I’ve done.”

“And you shouldn’t. You should accept it, embrace it.”

Carol snorted. “Then I’m embracing a monster.”

“Man is a monster. Man is an animal. But man also has a conscience and that’s what part us from animals. You are not a monster, Carol. I see how your past is haunting you every day. Do you think it haunts men like Negan? Do you think he lies awake at night and thinking about all the lives he’s taken? Not a single second, I promise you. But you, you’re hurting and that is healing, that’s human. You’re a human being, Carol and you’re doing the best you can. Not everyone does, but you do.”

“But I’m so tired of all the pain. I just want to forget it all. I just _can’t_ go on.”

“And yet you do, you’re still here, trying.”

Carol made a face. “He said that to me, once.”

“Smart man. He’s a keeper for sure.” Carol chuckled through her tears some more. Ezekiel meant what he had said. What he had seen of Daryl so far, told him he was indeed a smart man but also a very sensitive man. And Carol was in a sensitive place, mending her heart and it was so easy for things to break then. “He’ll be back, you’ll see.”

“I really hope you’re right, Ezekiel,” Carol said and gave him a teary smile.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I can't look at this any longer, so sorry for any errors. I hope you like it.
> 
> Also, I totally stole the kiss from madwomanlexie's freaking awesome tree comic. If you're on tumblr you know which one I mean.

Daryl was doing great. After downing his second cup of coffee and eating some crackers, he went into the business of inventory and secret stashing. He chose some canned food to take with him, the rest he carried down into the basement and hid behind the dingy and some trash. He picked up an old rucksack that hung on the wall, nicked another bottle of wine, stuffed it in and walked up from the basement. He intently smashed some other windows of the house, not much but a little so it would look like the house had already been visited. After that he did the same with some of the neighboring houses. In one house he found loads of sweets that still looked okay in a cupboard. They would come with him to the Kingdom. Because he was going back there. He had never been more sure of anything in his life. He was gonna go back and face Carol head on like a man and tell her how he felt. If it all went to shit, she would know and he would know he’d done everything he could. He didn’t really have a plan for anything after that moment, but do or die, man!

For lunch, or it was more dinner time, he feasted on some corn and cold ravioli together with a Heineken he found in another house, and it was almost cold too. Was this what vacation felt like? He wondered as he half lay in one of those recliners on the upper porch of “his” house, sipping on his second beer. If so, he liked it. They should do this more often, go on vacation. Why not? If slaying walkers and fighting wars with psychopaths was everyday work, going away for a few days to a secluded place could be vacation. Why shouldn’t there be vacation in the new world? He couldn’t think of a reason not to. But of course he knew it was a selfish thing, just slipping away from responsibilities, but like Denise had said, they’re was surviving and there was living. Daryl wanted to live a little now.

So during the evening he strolled the beach, gazing out over the blue horizon. He picked up some sea shells he found pretty and that gave him an idea. He knew he had seen some empty glass jars in the kitchen, so he went inside and fetched one and then he walked back to the beach, filled the jar to its half with sand and laid the shells on top. If someone ever questioned him if he really had been to the ocean, he had some proof.

When darkness fell over Westland, Virginia he went to bed. He wanted to get an early start the next day and he fell asleep with a satisfied feeling in his heart.

***

The next morning he woke up at dawn and instantly got ready for his journey home. It saddened him a bit to leave this peaceful place but he told himself, there was a good chance he could come back here, and maybe not alone the next time.

He siphoned some gas from a couple of cars that were still parked around the marina, and with a backpack heavy from food, wine, batteries and other useful things he’d picked up, he took one last look at the Chesapeake Bay before he drove away. He had a plan for the ride home. He would swing by the Birthplace again and trade in some bread for Carol. He knew how much she missed having freshly baked bread, cookies aside. It would also be a piece offering and he felt he could need one.

Just as he was thinking that his eyes caught sight of something green in one of the gardens he passed on his way off the island. It was weaving in and out through the white picket fence and he instantly recognized the leaves. He hit the brakes and stared at the shrubbery. He’d never been a spiritual guy but just like the first time, it felt like a sign from above. What the hell… He dismounted and walked up to the fence. He let his fingers follow a small branch down to where it had its roots and with his knife he dug as many roots as possible to the branch and cut them off. Together with some soil he placed the plant in his red rug and tied it and then he carefully placed it in the top of his back pack, hoping it wouldn’t die during the day. It was almost too good to be true.

***

In the Kingdom it was evening the third day Daryl had been gone. Carol told herself she wasn’t keeping count but who was she kidding. She might as well carve lines in the wall, it was that obvious. She had made a mistake with Daryl, she knew that now, so she hoped fiercely that Ezekiel was right. Daryl was going to come back. He had to. He would. She too had a hard time believing he would want to be alone now that he actually had a family that loved him for him, because they did. She may have pushed him away forever but he would come back to Alexandria, and she knew the way there. Just in case…

Suddenly a familiar sound reached her ears. Oh my God, could it be? She walked to the windows of her room and looked out. Her heart stopped. It was. It really was him. And she saw him park the bike and turn the engine off, looking up the building, searching for her windows. She jerked back from the windowsill, her heart now thumping wildly in her chest. Would he? Yeah, he would. Oh God, how did she look? She looked herself over in the mirror and told herself he’d seen her in much worse states. What would she say? What should she say? She hadn’t exactly been nice to him the last time they talked. She’d been so sad and angry that day. She was pacing around the room when there was a knock on the door. Okay, calm down, it’s just Daryl, she thought, knowing it wasn’t _just_ Daryl. It was _Daryl,_ her best friend who she wanted back more than ever. She took a deep breath and walked up to her door and opened it. There he was, looking nervous as hell. She hoped she didn’t look as nervous even though she felt she was.

“Hey,” he said gently.

“Hi Daryl.”

They stared at each other. After a beat Carol regained herself and welcomed him in.

“I’m sorry it’s a mess around here,” she apologized and began picking up cloths from chairs, stuffing them in to her lockers.

“S’alright.” She heard Daryl fumbling with something behind her back and turned around.

“I got you something,” Daryl said and held a tiny bundled up and slightly muddy rosebush in front of him.

“A plant?”

“It’s a Cherokee rose, but it ain’t in bloom right now. I thought maybe you’d like to plant it somewhere around here.”

Carol’s hand went up and over her mouth. Daryl saw it and shifted nervously on his feet.

“And I got some other stuff.” Daryl quickly put the dirty plant on her breakfast table by the wall and started unloading his rucksack.

“There’s this place at the George Washington birthplace memorial. It’s like a farm, a bit like Hilltop but bigger. They make their own flour, and thought maybe you’d like to know. It’s real great. Here’s some bread I traded from them. And some other stuff I found on the way here. ”

Carol was in awe. Daryl was piling up her table with bread and wine and sweets and this and that and she didn’t know what to say but “Thank you.”

“S’nothing,” Daryl shrugged, peering at her through his bangs.

“It’s not nothing Daryl. Wow! You had a really good trip.” She walked up to the table and looked at all the things he had brought with him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna tell Ezekiel and the others about the Birthplace. Think we can trade with them. They didn’t know about Negan. We could make alliances.

“Mm, that’s great.” Something on the table had caught her eye.

“What’s this?” She asked, holding up the glass jar filled with sand and pretty sea shells.

“Err, that’s from the beach.” Daryl took the jar from her. “I’ve never seen the ocean before so… it’s stupid…”

“No, it isn’t. It’s a souvenir, Daryl. People get them on vacations, you know.”

“Yeah, well. You can have it if ya want.” He held it out for her again and she took it back, marveling at such a simple thing but still so beautiful.

“Thanks.”

Daryl gave her a look and started fidgeting with his bag awkwardly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when ya needed a friend,” he finally said softly.

Carol looked at him and he returned the gaze with growing confidence. “What do you mean?” She asked.

“In Alexandria. I saw you were hurting, but I… I didn’t how to help you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t know if anyone could have.”

“It was so messed up. Everything.”

Carol agreed to that with a nod. “I just couldn’t be me.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Carol paused. She couldn’t talk about it yet. Not now. Soon but not now, but she wanted him to know she never intended to hurt him. She looked down at jar, studying the shells.

“I want you to know, I wasn’t trying to start over with Tobin, Daryl. I was trying to forget. That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time, and it doesn’t work. I was stupid just thinking it could. You know you can’t forget, don’t you?”

Daryl just shook his head. He knew what she was talking about.

“You know, after the prison, when it was just Beth and me, we found a house. Or Michonne and I had been there before, but it looked a lot like the shithole I grew up in, moonshine included.” Carol gave him a curious look. “Anyway, we burned it down. It was all Beth’s idea, said I needed to forget my past and shit… and it felt good, seeing it burn. But both my dad and Merle are still yellin’ at me, tellin’ me how useless I am. It never goes away. You can only learn to live with it.”

“I know. I live with it every day.”

“I don’t know what happened after the prison, but whatever it was, I’m here if you need me.”

Carol gave him a tiny smile. “I’m glad you came back,” she told him. He gave her a tiny nod.

Daryl watched Carol as she held the glass jar gently in her hands, turning it around, looking at it like it was a miracle of some kind. Okay, here goes, Daryl thought and tried to remember his written words.

“I think we’re better together than apart,” he said, the words rushing out of him. Carol gave him a puzzled look.

“I mean, I think we… we should be together.” Carol was still looking puzzled.  God, why was this so goddamn hard? “I mean, not like before, something new. You and me. If you want.”

“What are you really trying to say, Daryl?” Carol asked incredulously, looking at him with big curious blue eyes. Daryl felt his insides itching and he lost it.

“Dammit Carol, I love you!” He almost yelled at her and he winced.

“What?” Carol eyes were big as saucers now and he tried to find a steady but firm voice.

“I’m _in_ love with ya, and I won’t leave ya. You can yell all you want, but I’m not gonna let ya push me away again, because I know that ain’t the right thing to do here. I’m done with being afraid. I’m done with only surviving. I want it to be you and me and I want to stay with you as long as I’m breathin’!” He was shaking all over with all the feelings he’d finally let out. If she rejected him now, he didn’t know what to do, but she nodded slowly, put the ocean souvenir on the table and stepped up close to him. Daryl was still shaking, not convinced yet he hadn’t made a complete fool out of himself. When she was right in front of him she raised her arm and cupped his cheek with her hand. He sighed and leaned into it. He didn't notice he'd closed his eyes because when he opened them he saw her still looking at him with worried eyes.

“Daryl? Are you okay?” She asked him. He pondered this for a brief moment and came to the conclusion he wasn't shaking anymore. Instead, he felt weirdly calm.

“Yeah. I'm good."

And without further ado he leaned down and kissed her. Carol tensed up at first but relaxed into his embrace seconds later and reciprocated his kiss. And Lord have mercy, he didn’t know it would feel like this! She tasted so sweet and her lips were so soft against his chapped ones and his scruff that he wondered for a second how the hell she could enjoy this, but just as he was thinking that, Carol let out a miniscule moan that was like angels’ singing to his ear. She liked it! Okay, she liked it a lot, because she took a firm hold around his neck and drew him as close as he possible could be. Eventually they ended up against the wall and Daryl didn’t really know where he ended or she began. His mind was buzzing with pleasure and his hands was firmly placed on her gorgeous ass, and there was heavy breathing between kisses and tongues exploring skin and hips gyrating towards each other with blood flowing to southern parts of the human body.

After a minute or it could have been an eternity, they paused and inhaled some much needed oxygen. Carol looked at him and parted his bangs with her delicate fingers. She looked flushed and there was still something deeply painful registered in her eyes, but there was also hope and longing in those cerulean blues.

Quietly and carefully she spoke, “Daryl, please make love to me. I need to feel something other than this pain. I need you to love me. I love you too.”

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

So he led her to her bed and he did make love to her, and he took his time. Carol finally let her tears fall but they were not tears of pain and sadness. No, they were tears of relief and of love. Daryl collected her tears with kisses and caresses while he took care of both their needs and wants, whispering her name and sweet nothings in her ear. He came shivering inside her and he thought for a moment he’d died and gone to heaven, but when he opened his eyes, she was still there, looking up at him with nothing more than profound love in her eyes. And he saw her smile, that smile that been gone for so long, he saw it again and a weight greater than the world itself lifted from his chest. He couldn’t help letting out a laugh as he rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath from their lovemaking. Carol giggled and clung to him, stroking her hands languidly up and down his back as they both came down from the high. Eventually Daryl rolled off her and they lay on their sides on her bed, facing each other and just looked in wonder at the other person. Daryl had a hard time believing this was true. Carol had a hard time believing it finally had happened.

“Can I kiss you forever now?” The question was out of Daryl’s mouth before he could stop it. God, what a stupid question, he thought and blushed. Carol tried to hide her amusement.

“Err, well, we might have to take some breaks for food and sleeping and stuff.” She was teasing with him again.

“No, I meant… um… fuck…” Carol giggled at him, mirth seeping out of her.

“Yes, Pookie, you got me. Don’t worry. And right now, you can kiss me as long as you want. Amongst other things.” Carol bit her lower lip and trailed her index finger seductively down his damp glistening chest. Daryl just gawked at her, but secretly his insides were doing an extremely silly and happy dance.

“Good Lord! You’ll be the death of me.” But Daryl Dixon was more than happy to challenge that, so he dove in again, grinning like a fool in love which was exactly what he wanted to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue anyone?


End file.
